First Family (23 page)

Quarry closed the door behind him. “I just talked to Willa.”

“Please don’t hurt her for what she did.”

“I’m not planning on hurting her.” He added in a grim tone, “Unless you two pull something like that again. There’s no way out of here even if you do get out of the mine.”

“Why are you doing this?”

He sat down at the table and held up the pieces of paper. “This is why.” He nodded to the only other chair in the room. “You want to sit down?”

“I want to go home.”

“You need to look at this.”

Gathering her courage, Wohl moved forward slightly. “If I do will you let me go?” Her voice was pleading, her eyes filling with tears. It was as though she desperately wanted to hear something from him that would allow for her eventual freedom.

“Well, I’m not going to keep you here much longer, that’s for sure.”

“Why did you bring me here? And Willa?”

“I needed you both,” Quarry said simply. “None of what I need to do was gonna happen without you.” He held up the papers. “I sent the blood I took from you in to a place that ran a bunch of tests on it. DNA tests. I could’ve just done a swab from inside your cheek but my reading on the subject made me believe working with the blood was just as good if not better. I didn’t want any mistakes.”

“DNA?”

“Yeah. Like fingerprints, only better. They use it all the time to get folks off Death Row that’re innocent.”

“I’ve committed no crimes.”

“Never said you did.” He looked at the pieces of paper, silently reading off the results again. “But you did give birth to a little girl twelve years ago. Gave birth but then you gave her up. Did you enjoy seeing her again today?”

The blood drained from Diane’s face. “What are you talking about?”

“Willa is your daughter. Willa Dutton she’s called now. She just celebrated her twelfth birthday. Her mom’s name is Pam Dutton. Her adoptive mom, I mean. I had Mrs. Dutton’s blood checked too just in case yours didn’t match. But it did. And so did Willa’s. You are, without no doubt at all, her ma.”

“That’s impossible,” she said dully, her voice barely able to form the words.

“You got pregnant, had the baby, and then the Duttons adopted it.” He waved the papers in the air. “DNA don’t lie, lady.”

“Why are you doing this?” she said, her voice low, but panicky.

“I got my reasons.” He stood. “Would you like to see your daughter again?”

Wohl put a hand against the tabletop to steady herself. “What?” she gasped.

“I know you two just got acquainted, but I thought you might want to see her again now that you know.”

She glanced at the papers. “I don’t believe you.”

He handed the pages across to her. “I had them put it in language folks like me could understand. The top batch test is Willa’s. The one under that is yours. Read the result line.”

She took the papers and read them slowly. “Ninety-nine point nine percent match for mother and child,” she said dully.

She threw the papers down and screamed, “Who are you!”

“It’s a long story and not one I’m willing to share with you. Do you want to see the girl or not?”

Wohl was already shaking her head, whipping it back and forth.

Quarry looked down at her with a curious mixture of sympathy and disgust. “You coulda kept the child. Guess I kind of understand why you didn’t. But that doesn’t mean I agree with it. Children are precious. Got to hang on to ’em. I learned that lesson the hard damn way.”

Wohl straightened up. “I don’t know who you are or what you want, but you have no right to judge me.”

“If I were the judgmental type, maybe you’d already be dead.”

This remark caused Wohl to drop to her knees, curl into a tight ball, and start sobbing.

Quarry bent down, picked up the DNA reports where she’d dropped them, and stood there watching her. “Last chance to see the girl,” he finally said.

A minute passed. Finally, Wohl said, “Does… does she have to see me?”

“Ma’am, you two already met.”

“But I didn’t know she was my daughter,” Wohl shot back. Then she added calmly, “I didn’t know… I was her mother.”

“Okay, I can see that.”

Diane had a sudden thought. “Oh my God, does she know I’m her mother?”

“No. I saw no reason to tell her. ’Cause you’re not the one who raised the girl.”

“Do you know this Pam Dutton?”

“Never met her.”

“But do you know if she’s been good to Willa?”

“You telling me you didn’t know the woman before you gave your daughter to her?”

“It wasn’t that way. I really didn’t have a choice.”

“Everyone has a choice.”

“So can I see her without her seeing me?”

“I got a way. If you’re willing.”

Wohl rose on unsteady legs. “I’d like to see her.” Somehow this admission came out as a guilty confession.

“Give me a couple minutes.”

Diane rushed forward and clutched at his arm. “You’re not going to do anything that will hurt her?”

Quarry slowly removed the woman’s fingers from his sleeve. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Five minutes later he returned and held the door open for her. She looked at it fearfully, as though if she walked through it she would never be coming back.

Sensing this Quarry said, “I give you my word, I’ll take you to see the girl and then I’ll bring you back here.”

“Then what?”

“Then we’ll just have to see. Can’t promise you any more than that.”

Q
UARRY REMOVED
the board from metal hooks driven deep into the wall, opened the door, and motioned Wohl inside.

“Where is she?”

He pointed to his left. “Over there.”

Wohl spun around and stared at a small lump under the blanket on a cot against one wall. Quarry lifted off the blanket. Underneath Willa lay there, sleeping.

Wohl crept closer. “What if she wakes up?”

“I gave her something to knock her out. Good hour or so. She looks like you,” said Quarry quietly. “In the nose, the chin. You can’t see her eyes, but they’re the same color as yours.”

Wohl involuntarily nodded. She could see the resemblance too. “Willa Dutton. That’s a pretty name.”

“You didn’t name her?”

“No. I knew I was giving her up so I didn’t… I mean I couldn’t.”

Wohl stroked the girl’s dark hair. She looked back at Quarry. “You’re not going to hurt her.”

“She’s not the one at fault here. Neither are you, really.”

“But you said before—”

“There are degrees of guilt.”

“So who…”

“Did you want to give her up?”

“I said I didn’t have a choice.”

“And like I told you before, folks always have a choice.”

“Can I hold her?”

“Go on.”

Wohl put her arms around Willa’s shoulders. She touched her face, nestled her cheek against the girl’s, and finally gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“What do you remember about the adoption?”

“Not much. I was only twenty.”

“And the daddy?”

“None of your business.”

“So you just gave her up?”

“Yes.” She gazed at him. “I had no money. I was still in college. I couldn’t care for her.”

“So they took her off your hands. And your life turned out okay,” said Quarry. “You finished college, got a good job. Married, but then got divorced. Never had any more children.”

“How do you know all this about me?”

“I’m not a real smart man. But I work hard. And I needed to know about you. So I did.”

“And what are you doing all this for?”

“None of
your
business.”

Wohl turned back to Willa when the girl started moaning a little bit.

“Is she waking up?” she asked fearfully.

“Just dreaming in her sleep. But let’s head on back.”

After returning to her room Wohl said, “How much longer will I be kept here?”

“If I had an answer to that I’d give it to you, but I don’t.”

“And Willa?”

“The same.”

“You said Pam was her adopted mother’s name?”

“That’s right.”

“She must be terribly worried.”

“I don’t think so,” said Quarry.

“Why not?”

“Because she’s dead.”

S
EAN WAS ABLE
to grab a flight to Nashville that night. Michelle picked him up from the airport. On the drive to her father’s house he filled Michelle in on what he’d discovered about Tuck and Cassandra Mallory.

“She sounds like someone whose
ass
I would really love to kick,” she snapped.

“Well, you sure wouldn’t have any trouble finding it. The lady tends to put it right out there.”

“So who was the man who was meeting with Pam? The one Tuck thought was having an affair with her?”

“I haven’t had a chance to follow that up.”

After they rode in silence for a few seconds he said, “You really think your father killed your mother?”

“I don’t know what to think. I only know that someone killed her and he’s acting like the prime suspect.”

“Do the cops share your suspicions?”

“He’s a former police chief and my brother Bobby is on the force here. They tend to cover their own.”

“But if the evidence points in one direction, they’ll have to act.”

“I know that,” she said tensely.

“Have you talked to this Donna person? The one your mom was supposed to be meeting for dinner?”

“Not yet. I was hoping you and I could do it together.”

He gripped her shoulder. “I know this is hard, Michelle. But we’ll get through it.”

“I know you’ve got your hands full with the Dutton case. I mean the First Lady and all. I feel sort of guilty pulling you into this.”

He smiled reassuringly. “I’m a great multitasker. You should know that by now.”

“I still appreciate it.”

“Have they canvassed the neighborhood? Anyone see anything?”

“There was a pool party going on next door. A sweet sixteen for the homeowner’s granddaughter. Cars parked all the way up the street. Lot of noise. Music. But no eyewitnesses to anything.”

“Maybe something will pop on that end,” he said encouragingly.

The Maxwell house was full, so Michelle had gotten Sean a room at a local hotel. He dropped his bag in his room and they drove over to the house. Sean expressed his condolences to everyone and then Michelle led him out into the backyard, where they could talk.

“The funeral’s tomorrow,” she said.

“Your brothers seem to be wondering what I’m doing here.”

“Let them wonder.”

“Do they suspect their father?”

“Even if they did, they would never acknowledge it.”

“And yet you have no trouble doing so.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“Yours, always. How do you want to start digging?”

“I snitched my mother’s address book. A Donna Rothwell is listed in there. She’s the only Donna, so she must be the one. I know it’s very late but I thought we could call her and meet with her.”

“On what pretext?”

“My wanting to know who my mother’s friends were? Stories she could tell me. Quaint memories that might just lead me to a murderer.”

“And if that person turns out to be your father?”

“I don’t make exceptions to that rule. If he’s the one, so be it.”

Donna Rothwell agreed to meet with them despite the late hour. She was in her early sixties, about five-five, with a compact, athletic build. She had meticulously styled hair and carefully applied makeup. She exuded considerable warmth and even vivaciousness. Her home
was about four miles from the Maxwells’. It was large, richly furnished, and immaculate; a woman in full maid’s uniform had answered the door. The lady definitely had money, and from the many photos and mementos arrayed on shelves and tables, it was clear that she had traveled the world in high style.

She explained, “My late husband, Marty, was CEO of a large computer company and cashed out early. We lived a good life together.”

“Your husband passed on?” Sean asked.

“Years ago. His heart.”

“Never remarried?”

“Marty and I were college sweethearts. Doubt I’d get anything that good again, so why take a chance? But I date. Going steady right now, in fact. Sounds like high school, I know, but things come full circle if you live long enough.”